


Amethyst Remembrance

by freedomworm



Series: A Wounded Deer Leaps Highest [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomworm/pseuds/freedomworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> "Illumi watched Killua reached out –reached</i> away  <i>-and something cold had flickered to life in his chest.</i>"</p><p>Illumi doesn't know the question, or if he'll even find the answers, but he's looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amethyst Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cat_magics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_magics/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Amethyst Remembrance紫水晶色的回忆](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12247419) by [touching](https://archiveofourown.org/users/touching/pseuds/touching)



> I didn't think I'd find myself writing a sequel fic, but here we are. This series will likely turn into a series that follows Illumi through the years. I've always been intrigued by the concept of fictional characters growing older beyond the realms of their canon stories. 
> 
> I have no beta so all mistakes in this fic are my own.
> 
> Fingers crossed I captured the characterizations of these characters... :)

Illumi had taken Killua outside of the Zoldyck mansion twice in their lives: once, to observe a job, and once, when Killua was five, to see the spring festival parade in Pirola, which was almost five hours commute from home.

It was a memory that, in a way, Illumi could never quite claim, but one that he tended to dwell on nevertheless.

Mother was furious when they returned –the only time she had ever been upset with him. Had he lost his mind, she shrieked.

And yet, the day had been a good one.

 

Illumi carried Killua on his back, which he had not done since Kil was three and Mother had insisted that he be made to walk on his own.

He liked to carry his Killua, however, and Kil had held on tightly all day as they weaved through the dancing crowds, through the sea of Pirolan townspeople garbed in pale yellows and greens and blues for the celebrations.

They did not know how weak they were –like ants, Illumi explained to Kil. Ants work hard, and they carry their burdens. They do not know there are greater powers that lurk among them, who could come and crush them at any moment.

When he thought back about it, Illumi didn't think that Killua understood why Illumi took him to the festival that day any more than Illumi did. It never happened again, but Killua might've said that Illumi took him there for –for fun, perhaps.

They had watched the parades in silence, the two of them.

There were dancers in the traditional Pirolan robes, with gold and silver trinkets on their ankles and wrists that jingled with every step. A water dragon puppet followed, the painted paper structure held up on sticks by several more people who smiled and waved and made the long body of the dragon slither from side to side. Then came the young girls with the orange and yellow skirts that swirled around their legs like flames as they tossed from their flower-baskets multicolor sweets. Children raced after the girls and their candies, skipping along the front of the crowds, but Illumi observed stoically.

A soft breezed rustled through Illumi's hair at one point, tickling Killua, who giggled, patting the top of Illumi's head before resting his chin against Illumi's shoulder.

They had remained under the gentle gaze of the May sun until the entire parade passed, and then they'd gone to the market set up nearby and on a whim, Illumi bought two frosted apple tarts from a pastry stand set up for the festival events by the local baker.

Illumi was never fond of sweets in the way that Killua and Milluki were, but he liked tarts –the way there was a bitter-sour edge to the sweet fillings.

He and Killua had sat wordlessly at a curb on the edge of the market square, and when Killua finished his pastry, Illumi offered him the rest of his as well.

They rode the train home, that evening after the sun had set and the festival was long over, and from the station closest to the Zoldyck mansion, Illumi had walked, Killua already fast asleep on his back, where he could feel every breath Kil took.

Mother met them as soon as Illumi pushed open the Testing Gates.

" _Have you lost your mind?_ "

#

 

Illumi was born in the spring, a season he alone claimed; Milluki and Kalluto were born in October and December respectively, and Killua and Alluka in June.

It was said that on the morning he entered the world, a large thunderstorm passed over Kukuroo Mountain, bringing with it enormous, black rainclouds. Rain pounded against the windows and lightning lit up the sky outside, but Illumi did not cry.

He'd stared up at his mother, opening for the first time his large, black eyes, and Kikyo Zoldyck had smiled down at him and named him _Illumi_ , the first son.

 

# 

He did not like the spring. It rained near constantly in the Dentora region, and the summers brought more rain from monsoons hitting the southern coast. In late autumn, it was overcast and in winter it snowed endlessly. There was a pocket of agreeable weather, just after the summer solstice for three weeks before autumn crept in; in that time, the clouds over Kukuroo Mountain finally parted, and sun shined down on the Zoldyck Estate.

The year Killua had returned from Heaven's Arena, there was something different in his eyes. 

 _Alluka_ , Illumi thought;  _Kil is still upset about him._ One year had passed; Killua's Heaven's Arena training had, of course, been scheduled to distract him after Alluka's isolation.

Illumi had thought... he had thought Killua would understand by then -by the time he returned from the two-hundredth floor, but it had become obvious, when Killua explained that he had declined continuing past the one-nineties. 

Killua had not made it to the two-hundredth floor, which meant he had not yet discovered  _nen_ , which meant he—  _he does not know destruction –not really_.

Illumi saw the restless look in Killua's eyes, and thought for the first time in his life,  _what have I done_?

He didn't like that the prickly feeling that accompanied that thought. It seemed... weak. So, after a job in Delphia, he bought a hand-crafted kite for Killua, shaped like a dragon.

Killua stared at the present, which had been accompanied by a box of his favorite chocolate balls, and he had said slowly, "What do you want?"

Illumi tilted his head. "These are yours," he said. "I bought them for you."

"Presents?" Killua said, eyebrows rising. "I have my own money now. From fighting."

"You did well. Now you can buy all the cake you want," Illumi relaxed the muscles in his face.  _Smile._ Killua liked it when Alluka smiled, but he only stared at Illumi when he tried to do the same.

Eventually, Killua took the chocolates, and then, reluctantly, the painted dragon kite, which he held loosely in one hand, puzzled by it.

"The wind will pick up this week," Illumi had explained, "It will be nice out. You can –play."

"Play," Killua repeated flatly, "With who?"

"Me," Illumi said at once, although that was not true. He didn't know how to play. He did not play. Ever. "We can go today."

Killua had tilted his head to the side, the one gesture he had picked up from Illumi without realizing, and after a moment, he said, "Maybe tomorrow."

 _No_.

Illumi had nodded. People said no. It was alright. He understood. He did.

Killua turned away, moving toward the stairs, but he paused on the first step and looked back, turning only his neck. "Thanks,  _Illu-nii_ ," he said softly, and that was all.

He never flew the kite –it collected dust in family storage for years before Gotoh was instructed to throw it out with some old toys –but he ate the chocolate.

#

 

Alluka was born on a late June evening a week after Killua's first birthday.

Illumi had been tasked with supervising Killua in the play room, where Killua had taken to crawling all over his lap, using his body as a platform on which to practice his most recently learned technique: standing.

For his part, Illumi had been sitting completely still as Killua wobbled where he stood up on Illumi's legs.

"Master Illumi," a soft voice came, and Tsubone had bowed her head where she'd appeared in the doorway of the room. "You can see your new brother now."

"Illu?" Killua said, puzzled, when Illumi had set him aside so that he could climb to his feet.

After a moment of consideration, Illumi had bent down, gathering Killua into his arms despite Tsubone's disapproving look –Milluki was supposed to see their new brother before Killua.

Mother was reposing in her room after the birth while butlers attended to the newborn.

When Illumi had entered the nursery with Killua, they all stepped aside, and Illumi approached the cradle with Killua squirming forward in his arms, eager to see what was happening.

"Madame has named him Alluka," Tsubone said, standing behind Illumi.

Illumi had looked down at Alluka, dark eyed and pale with a small tuft of black hair on his head.

"Illu?" Killua said, looking up at Illumi and then down into the cradle.

"Alluka," Illumi said, "Your little brother,"

"Allu," Killua repeated, reaching out toward the cradle with a wide smile.

Then Illumi watched as Killua reached out –reached  _away_  –and something cold flickered to life in his chest.

#

 

Illumi returned to Kukuroo Mountain for the first time in six years on Kalluto's twentieth birthday.

He did not plan it that way, though, in some part of his mind he was aware that that it was the youngest Zoldyck's birthday.

From what Illumi understood –and much to Mother's dismay –Kalluto spent much of each year away from home. He returned briefly at least once a year, during the winter holidays which coincided with his birthday. It was then that Mother could fuss to her heart's delight.

When Illumi pushed past the Testing Gates and greeted Mike with a brief nod, he was met almost immediately with a gust of wintry wind which pushed flakes of snow through his hair and disguised the small paper triangles that accompanied the snow.

It was not the most subtle of moves, but it was oddly... sweet. Kalluto's way of saying hello, Illumi realized.

He scanned the forest before him, taking in their bare branches and the smooth snow at their bases. He didn't sense Kalluto, but then, Kalluto had always had a gift for  _zetsu_.

"Hello, Kallu," Illumi said softly. "Did Mother send you?"

"No." Kalluto stepped out from behind the thick trunk of a nearby evergreen. He was still petit –a good foot shorter than Illumi –and he had grown his hair out over the years, wearing it pulled up neatly into a bun. His kimonos had varied over the years; it had been crimson with black blossoms when Illumi briefly encountered the Phantom Troupe five years earlier, but it was black with violet and white sleeves that day, much like it had been when Kalluto was an adolescent.

"Mother hasn't expected you in a long time," Kalluto said, eyes darting up and down quickly as he took in Illumi's appearance. "She'll be happy to see you again."

Illumi took a step forward and Kalluto turned; they began the walk up to the mansion together.

"How have you been?" Kalluto asked after a moment. "I heard you fought in the Glory Tournament in Kukanyu after we saw each other. I'd like to go there someday."

"It was" –he paused, thinking –"pleasant." That wasn't right. It had been brutal –bloody. "Interesting."  _Exciting_ , Hisoka had said.

They arrived at the mansion just as great clumps of snow began to float down from the sky. A butler Illumi did not recognize opened the door and was silent as they passed by into the atrium.

" _Illumi_!" Mother was down the stairs in a flash, her many skirts whipping behind her, and he braced himself for impact—

It did not come.

Mother hovered inches from him, arms carefully at her sides. Her red-painted lips quivered and static played across her visor.

"Hello, Mother," Illumi said dutifully. "I hope you do not mind I did not call ahead." He glanced to the side, to where Kalluto had joined Mother at her side. There was a faint curve of amusement on his lips as Kalluto met Illumi's gaze and he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as if to say  _wait for it_ —

And Mother tossed back her head with a high-pitched wail and threw her arms around her eldest son.

#

 

The spring festival in Pirola was bigger than it used to be. The town's population had expanded rapidly since the boom of its agricultural industry, and with the population increase naturally went the development of the town. The small field that had once held the local farmer's market was replaced by a general store.

As Illumi stood, staring up at the smiling mascot's face on the store's sign, he heard a great cheer rise from the crowd gathered a block away, signaling the start of the festival's parade.

Illumi stood near the back of the crowd on the corner of one street, looking on as a familiar procession of dancers and musicians came down the street.

The beginning of the parade was headed by a marching band, playing on traditional string instruments and drums and leading the beat for the following dancers, with their whirling skirts and flashing ornaments.

A line of children skipped after the first wave of dancers, twirling ribbons over their heads and waving enthusiastically at onlookers.

Illumi observed them pass silently, a single, expressionless spectator in the crowd. He scanned the area once, and for a moment, the crowd parted, parade members shifting aside in a perfect wave of movement, and across the street, past the swishing technicolor skirts and robes and glinting, jingling bangles, there stood a young woman.

She did not see Illumi in that instant, her head tilted back and her mouth open with laughter.

The gentle rays of the spring sun lit her face, casting light upon her smooth, pale skin and shining off her long, dark hair, which flowed freely around her and blew softly with the breeze. Illumi stared at her, oddly fixated –drawn, in a way, to the openness of her joy –to the thrum of life that seemed to surround her.

Then his gaze slid sideways, and he met the stare of familiar blue eyes.

Eyes were –they were  _windows_ , people said. Illumi never really paid much heed to the idioms of the general population. They were largely superstitious sayings –nonsense for either the foolish or the wise to spout when they wished to give an impression of depth –and yet. And yet, there was a vulnerability about the eyes that made them…  _windows_ , as the saying went. Of course, Illumi knew better than anyone that eyes could be disguised –changed in color or in shape –but the way a person  _looked_ , the way they blinked, the way their thoughts played out in the reflection of light of their eyes – _that_  was something that few remembered to or even  _could_  hide.

And Illumi knew the pale blue tint of Killua's eyes despite the years, and he recognized the fierceness behind their icy color.

His defenses rose almost immediately at the challenge that emanated from Killua's stare, but Illumi ignored his instinct to attack –oddly.  _Take him back_ ,  _take him, take him_ , his mind screamed, but Illumi found that he could not move an inch.

A nearly automatic scan by his senses eliminated the chance that someone was using a form of paralyzing  _nen_  on him, and distantly Illumi contemplated the meaning of his mind-body betrayal.

And beyond the dozens of separate thoughts that ran simultaneously though Illumi's head, a hot sensation shot through his chest, unfamiliar and –uncomfortable. He did not understand what the feeling was, and it puzzled him. He had long ago trained himself against pain, but the dull ache that was spreading through him was undeniable, and it made each breath he took feel heavy.

Killua had grown into a tall young man, slender and broad-shouldered like Illumi, but years on the road had given him a weather-beaten appearance, and scars of varying sizes and stages of healing marked his skin where it had once been unblemished.

Their eyes remained locked for what felt like hours, neither Illumi nor Killua willing to look away first, and Illumi momentarily considered the situation; that they had both come to the festival, all these years later… What could Illumi make of it? What would Killua make of it? Did he  _remember_  the year Illumi brought him?

All too soon, time sped up again.

The gathered spectators shifted once more, and a great, blue paper-mâché dragon soared into view, held up by a line of parade participants. At Killua's side, the young woman had noticed his frozen stare, and in the moment before the dragon descended upon them, Alluka turned her head and her eyes widened with recognition.

When the dragon passed, the crowd has moved once more and Alluka and Killua had vanished from sight.

_Ding!_

Illumi looked down, the cheerful chime of his cellphone breaking through the trance that seemed to have fallen over him.

 

 

 

 

> _Hisoka (1:32pm): Happy birthday~ ^_^_

 

He stared at the message, making a mental note to hunt down whoever (likely Milluki, through bribery) had given Hisoka his birth date. Illumi didn't respond to the message –he hardly ever did –but as he stowed his phone away, the heavy feeling his chest began to fade, and he was slowly beginning to understand what that meant.

With a last glance back across the street, Illumi turned on his heel, and began to put Pirola behind him.

 

#

 

 

_I held a Jewel in my fingers—_

_And went to sleep –_

_The day was warm, and winds were prosy—_

_I said "'Twill keep"—_

_I woke –and chid my honest fingers,_

_The Gem was gone—_

_And now, an Amethyst remembrance_

_Is all I own—_

 

 

-Emily Dickinson

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there it is! Just a couple of looks into Illumi's life, as I imagine it goes.
> 
> As you might have gathered, I am a big fan of Emily Dickinson, and I recently bought a selection of her poems in actual book form, so when I come across a good one, I'll probably add another part to this HXH series. Read: I will definitely be adding to this series, taking a closer look at Illumi's relationships and his ~adventures~ (cough, assassinations, cough).
> 
> This fic is based on Dickinson's #245 and is essentially about past love, gone except for its pleasant memory. There's a more romantic connotation to the actual poem, but I believe it works for filial/platonic love also. :)
> 
> If there's something you'd like to see in particular, or if you have a particular Dickinson poem you'd like to see used as a prompt, you're welcome to talk to me about it! You can shoot me an ask on Tumblr at freedomworm.tumblr.com/ask or just comment on this fic. I live for comments, so please review if you enjoyed this fic! ;)


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